"Ah! There’s so much blood!"

"Someone called an ambulance!"

Warm liquid streamed from the corner of my forehead, soaking into my lashes, clouding my vision with a hazy red. Around me, the noise turned chaotic, voices echoing as if underwater.

Then I heard Jason's voice—shaking, panicked.

“Honey, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to…”

“I just… I was afraid you’d lose control and actually kill someone…”

“I already called the emergency. Help is coming!”

The last expression I remember before losing consciousness must have been a bitter, ironic smile.

See? That’s my loving husband.

To protect his precious childhood sweetheart, he smashed a vase over my head with full force.

When I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital room, the pain in my skull screaming as if a hammer were pounding inside.

“Nicole, don’t move.”

“You needed more than a dozen stitches on your scalp…”

I shut my eyes and forced a faint, pained smile.

“Did you sign the divorce papers?”

“Once I’m discharged, let’s go to the Office of Civil Registry and get it done.”

Jason’s sobs cut off abruptly.

“Why are you still clinging to this divorce?”

He looked at me as if I had stabbed him, his tears falling onto the back of my hand.

“Nicole, I love you. The moment I saw you bleeding, I panicked and called for help right away. What’s wrong with you?”

I gave a humorless laugh.

“You love me? So your idea of love is smashing porcelain against my skull?”

If that’s love…

Then I’d rather you gave it to someone else.

Jason faltered, stunned. Then he quickly scrambled for defense.

“Nicole, I panicked! You looked like a completely different person—grabbing Julia by the neck and terrifying everyone in the room.”

“You know she and I grew up together—we’ve been neighbors since we were toddlers. She was just trying to help patch things up between us. How can you twist it like that?”

“Stop.”

I cut him off, my tone of ice cold. “Whatever excuses you’re trying to spin, I don’t care. My answer is simple: divorce.”

Even my father-in-law and mother-in-law, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping from just outside the door, looked at each other, stunned by my unwavering resolve.

They clearly hadn’t expected me to be this determined.

Suddenly, my father-in-law barged in.

“Nicole, you’ve never been this heartless before. Tell me the truth—did Jason do something unforgivable? If he did, just say the word, and I’ll teach him a proper lesson.”

It sounded like he was on my side—but only for a moment.

Before I could even open my mouth, he changed tone.

“Or… is there someone else?”

“My dear daughter-in-law, you just had a baby, you’ve started building your own little family. Don’t let some smooth-talking young man tempt you into ruining everything.”

“One moment of weakness, and your whole life could fall apart.”

My mother-in-law, who had been watching silently, stepped in too—her voice impatiently, her expression filled with disdain.

“Exactly. Young couples bicker, it’s normal. Quarrel at the head of the bed, make up at the foot of the bed.”

“You’re a wife and a mother now. Learn to be more tolerant.”

“Marriage isn’t a joke. You can’t just throw out the word ‘divorce’ every time things don’t go your way.”

Jason, for once, was unusually patient. He gently took my hand and whispered, his tone tender and coaxing.

“Wife, please talk to me. What’s really going on? If something’s wrong, let us face it together.”

“You’re so desperate to leave me… Are you suspecting something?”

His voice trembled. His expression, once confident, now betrayed a crack—a subtle flicker of fear and guilt.

Tears rolled down his cheeks once more.

“No matter what it is, even if you’ve done something, I’ll take the fall for you. Don’t worry about me.”

I stared at him in silence.

That flicker of panic in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I stared at him blankly, my face devoid of emotion.

After all these years together.

Every time he cried, something in me softened—my anger, my resolve, everything.

Whatever he wanted, I gave in.

When he asked to convert a room into a private studio, I agreed without hesitation.

Even when he put up a sign on the door that read: “Nicole and dogs, keep out,” I didn’t say a word.

I didn’t care—until now.

But something had changed.

Something had snapped.

“There’s nothing left to talk about, Jason. I don’t love you anymore.”

His eyelashes trembled violently, as if I’d struck him with a knife.

“What… what did you just say?”

“Nicole, we have a child now. How can you say something like that so casually? Don’t you feel even a shred of guilt?”

He looked completely broken, chest rising and falling rapidly, unable to process my words.

Seeing how far things had escalated, his father let out an angry snort.

“Nicole, wasn’t it you who wanted this in the first place?”

“If you go through with the divorce, you’ll leave with nothing. You’ll be kicked out of the house and have no place to go!”

I closed my eyes and didn’t respond.

My silence only made them more furious.

Curses and insults followed like a flood.

They picked up Jason, who was nearly collapsing in tears, and prepared to leave.

“Get up! You’re rich, talented—you could marry any woman you want. What’s the use of crying over someone like her? Let’s go!”

But their anger couldn’t mask their confusion.

They couldn’t understand how what they believed to be a perfect marriage had fallen apart so quickly, so irreparably.

Shortly after, my best friend Cindy Lang came rushing to the hospital as soon as she heard I’d been injured.

“Nicole! You’ve never been this cruel before. What happened to you?”

She had also heard about the divorce—and everything else.

The night my husband shattered a porcelain vase over my head during a family dinner to protect his childhood sweetheart had become the talk of the town.

Locally, I’d become a punchline, a walking joke on social media.

She glanced at my stitched-up forehead and bruises, then exhaled deeply, trying to stay calm.

“Weren’t you and Jason known as one of the most loving couples around? How did it all unravel like this?”

I remained quiet for a long while.

Then finally, I asked her softly, “Have you ever seen a sculpture of a half-naked goddess?”

She blinked. “What? You mean like a European classical piece? Nude, artistic, that sort of thing?”

“Yes.”

Cindy frowned, unsure where I was going with this.

“There’s one just like that in Jason’s studio,” I said, voice flat.

She stared at me, then suddenly burst into laughter.

“What? That’s impossible! It’s got to be a replica or something—there’s no way it’s real…”

I nodded.

“You’re right. It’s a fake.”

Then I added quietly, “And it moves.”

Cindy froze, her laughter dying instantly.

She didn’t finish her sentence, but her widening eyes told me she’d already put the pieces together.

Her smile vanished.

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

After I was discharged, Jason welcomed me home dressed in thin, stylish pajamas. He had clearly taken the time to spray himself with cologne. His appearance was casual, yet carefully curated.

“Nicole,” he said softly, stepping close to me, “I know I’ve been ignoring you recently. It’s just—after childbirth, the doctor said we had to abstain, so I spent time in the studio. I see now that I was wrong. Tell me what you need, and I’ll change. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”

His voice was low and seductive.

He moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

After so many years of marriage, I knew what this was.

He was trying to win me back.

This was his way of showing remorse.

And I used to love it.

But now, the very thought of that studio—the one he always kept me away from—filled me with disgust.

“Nicole…”

He whispered again, holding me tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck.

“I’ll slowly make up for everything… for the times I failed you…”

Then suddenly—

“Ah! Nicole, what are you doing?!”

Before he could finish, I shoved him away.

He stumbled and hit the floor hard.

The look in his eyes—shock and disbelief—mirrored exactly how I felt when I first learned the truth.

Seeing my coldness… seeing how rough and indifferent I’d become… he finally began to understand.

Jason’s patience finally snapped.

“Stop being so shameless.”

“Nicole, I’ve already apologized. I’ve tried to comfort you, tried to fix this—what more do you want?”

I looked at his flushed, almost feverish face. I couldn’t tell if his frustration was directed at me, or if it came from someone else’s consolation.

“I’m not causing a scene,” I said lazily. “I told you—I just want a divorce.”

My voice was calm, detached, as if I were simply talking about the weather.

Jason froze for a second, stunned by how indifferent I sounded. But he quickly recovered and resumed his pleading, clinging to the last scraps of our crumbling marriage.

“Nicole, have you forgotten the vows we made on our wedding day?”

“You said you’d stand by me through everything. It hasn’t even been that long… just a few years.”

“Our daughter is still a baby—barely a few months old. How can you be so heartless? How can you divorce me and leave her without a father?”

His eyes were red, filled with desperation and blame.

“If you leave, what do you want me to do? What about our daughter—what will happen to her?” he cried.

I stared at him, face expressionless, voice sharp as ice.

“I don’t care what you do.”

Jason looked at me like I had just torn his soul in half.

“That’s your own daughter. How can you say something like that?”

His voice cracked under the weight of his disappointment, his eyes brimming with disbelief.

Then, through gritted teeth, he muttered, “Fine. If you’re that heartless…”

“I might as well take our daughter and die.”

Without warning, he picked up our swaddled infant and stormed toward the balcony. The gesture was meant to shock, to terrify me into backing down.

But I didn’t even flinch.

I knew he wouldn’t jump. He was bluffing—again.

I’d overheard him once, telling someone in a hushed voice that he and his daughter couldn’t live without another woman. That woman was never me.

As I expected, Jason froze when he reached the balcony, awkwardly clutching our baby, drenched in drama but doing nothing.

“Nicole, you’re heartless!”

“Didn’t you want a divorce?” He shouted over the rain. “Fine! Let’s get a divorce!”

He stomped back inside, still carrying our child, dripping wet from the storm.

Moments later, the front door burst open.

His beloved childhood sweetheart, Julia, charged in like a storm of her own—spitting venom.

“Nicole, you’re the worst kind of woman!”

“Have you forgotten that car accident? The one where the doctors said you might never wake up? It was Jason who stayed by your side day and night, taking care of you nonstop!”

“And now you want a divorce? You really have no conscience at all!”

She knew the public saw me as fiercely loyal, someone who stood by her husband through anything.

Seeing my silence, she must’ve thought I was softening, maybe even ashamed.

But I looked at her with the same cold indifference.

“If he had gotten into a car crash and ended up a vegetable,” I said plainly, “I would’ve taken care of him, too.”

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t divorce him.”

Three days later, Jason finally signed the divorce agreement—in a rage.

But he had one final condition: I was to leave the house empty-handed.

I scoffed.

“Why should I be the one to leave with nothing?”

“You’re the one at fault here. If anyone should walk out with nothing, it’s you.”

My mother-in-law’s chest rose and fell violently. She rolled up her sleeves and stormed toward me, finger jabbing at my face.

“You shameless woman! You dare to say that out loud?”

“My son was just painting—what did he do wrong? You greedy little thing! You planned this all along, didn’t you? Have his child, take his property, and now you want to kick him out?”

“I’m going to sue you for marriage fraud!”

Her voice was shrill with rage, like nails scraping glass.

My father-in-law wasn’t far behind.

“You ungrateful wretch! Have you forgotten who gave you everything you have today?”

“Back then, you were just a poor girl with absolutely nothing. My family took you in, fed you, clothed you, raised you!”

“And now you dare spit in our faces—eating from our bowl while cursing us behind our backs. You’ve turned on us the moment you got comfortable!”

“Now that you’re living well, you go looking for a lover, throwing out my son like trash. And now you want to take the house too?”

He turned toward the door and shouted at no one in particular:

“I want the media to see this—let the whole world see if something this disgraceful has ever happened before!”